Titanic James and Lily
by rad the bad
Summary: Lily Evans, the engaged upperclass girl. James Potter, the down on his luck, happy go lucky painter. Is their love story doomed like the fate of the majestic ship they travel on, The Titanic? Please Read & Review.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Titanic.

Author's Note: I know this plot has been used extensively, but I don't think there is one for James and Lily. I hope you like this fic and leave lots of reviews.

**Titanic**

Cast:

Rose DeWitt Bukater ... Lily Evans

Jack Dawson ... James Potter

The Unsinkable Molly Brown ... Molly Weasley

Caledon Hockley ... Severus Snape

Brock Lovett ... Harry Potter

There is blackness, nothing is visible to the eye, and then two faint lights appear, close together... growing brighter. They resolve into two Deep Submersibles, free-falling toward us like express elevators. One is ahead of the other, and passes close enough to fill the frame, looking like a spacecraft blazing with lights, bristling with insectile manipulators. Tilting down to follow it as it descends away into the limitless blackness below. Soon they are fireflies, then stars and then, they are gone.

Pushing in on one of the falling submersibles, called Mir One, right up to its circular view port, we see the occupants. Inside, it is a cramped seven foot sphere, crammed with equipment. Seamus Finnegan, the sub's pilot, sits hunched over his controls... singing softly in Gaelic.

Next to him on one side is Harry Potter. He's in his late twenties, deeply tanned, and likes to wear his Nomex suit unzipped to show the gold from famous shipwrecks covering his tanned and toned chest. He is a sly, fast-talking treasure hunter, a salvage superstar who is part historian, part adventurer and part vacuum cleaner salesman. Right now, he is propped against the CO2 scrubber, fast asleep and snoring.

On the other side, crammed into the remaining space is a bearded wide-body named Ronald Weasley, who is also asleep. Weasley is an R.O.V. (Remotely Operated Vehicle) pilot and is the resident Titanic expert.

Seamus glances at the bottom sonar and makes a weight adjustment. At the bottom of the sea we see a pale, dead-flat lunar landscape. It gets brighter, lit from above, as Mir One enters the frame and drops to the seafloor in a down blast from its thrusters. It hits bottom after its two hour free-fall with a loud _Bonk_. Potter and Weasley jerk awake at the landing.

In a heavy Irish accent Finnegan says to them, "We are here."

5minutes later, the Two Subs skim over the seafloor to the sound of side scan sonar and the thrum of big thrusters. The featureless gray clay of the bottom unrolls in the lights of the subs. Weasley is watching the side scan sonar display, where the outline of a huge pointed object is visible. Finnegan lies prone, driving the sub, his face pressed to the center port.

"Come left a little. She's right in front of us, eighteen meters. Fifteen... Thirteen... you should see it." Comments Weasley

"Do you see it? I don't see it... there!"

Out of the darkness, like a ghostly apparition, the bow of the ship appears. Its knife-edge prow is coming straight at them, seeming to plow the bottom sediment like ocean waves. It towers above the seafloor, standing just as it landed 84 years ago.

**THE TITANIC.** Or what is left of her. Mir One goes up and over the bow railing, intact except for an overgrowth of rust draping it like mutated Spanish moss. Tight on the eyepiece monitor of a video camcorder, Harry Potter's face fills the black and white frame.

"It still gets me every time."

Finnegan looks over his shoulder to the bow railing visible in the lights beyond and turns and says wryly, "Its just your guilt because of stealing from the dead."

Harry is operating the camera himself, turning it in his hand so it points at his own face.

"Thanks. Work with me, here."

Harry resumes his serious, pensive gaze out the front port, with the camera aimed at himself at arm's length, he commentates, "It still gets me every time... to see the sad ruin of the great ship sitting here, where she landed at 2:30 in the morning, April 15, 1912, after her long fall from the world above."

Seamus rolls his eyes at the dramatics and mutters in Gaelic. Ron chuckles and watching the sonar, "You are so full of shit, mate."

Mir Two drives aft down the starboard side, past the huge anchor while Mir One passes over the seemingly endless forecastle deck, with its massive anchor chains still laid out in two neat rows, its bronze windlass caps gleaming. The 22 foot long subs are like white bugs next to the enormous wreck.

Still speaking to the camera, Harry introduces, "Dive nine. Here we are again on the deck of Titanic... two and a half miles down. The pressure is three tons per square inch, enough to crush us like a freight train going over an ant if our hull fails. These windows are nine inches thick and if they go, it's sayonara in two microseconds."

Mir Two lands on the boat deck, next to the ruins of the Officer's Quarters. Mir One lands on the roof of the deck house nearby.

"Right. Let's go to work."

Weasley slips on a pair of 3-D electronic goggles, and grabs the joystick controls of the ROV.

Outside the Sub, the ROV, a small orange and black robot called Snoop Dog, lifts from its cradle and flies forward. Snoop Dog drives itself away from the sub, paying out its umbilical behind it like a robot yo-yo. Its twin stereo-video cameras swivel like insect eyes. The ROV descends through an open shaft that once was the beautiful First Class Grand Staircase.

Snoop Dog goes down several decks, then moves diagonally into the First Class Reception Room.

They see through Snoop's video POV, the cavernous interior. The remains of the ornate hand carved woodwork which gave the ship its elegance move through the floodlights, the lines blurred by slow dissolution and descending rustic formations. Stalactites of rust hang down so that at times it looks like a natural grotto, then the scene shifts and the lines of a ghostly undersea mansion can be seen again.

As Snoop passes the ghostly images of Titanic's opulence, a grand piano in amazingly good shape, crashed on its side against a wall is seen. The keys gleam black and white in the lights.

A chandelier, still hanging from the ceiling by its wire... glinting as Snoop moves around it. Its lights play across the floor, revealing a champagne bottle, then some WHITE STAR LINE china... a woman's high-top "granny shoe". Then something eerie, what looks like a child's skull resolves into the porcelain head of a doll.

Snoop enters a corridor which is much better preserved. Here and there a door still hangs on its rusted hinges. An ornate piece of molding, a wall sconce... all giving hints to the grandeur of the past.

The ROV turns and goes through a black doorway, entering room B-52, the sitting room of a "Promenade Suite", one of the most luxurious staterooms on Titanic.

Weasley says silently so as not to disturb the atmosphere, "I'm in the sitting room. Heading for bedroom B-54."

Potter peering at the screen, "Stay off the floor. Don't stir it up like you did yesterday."

Weasley grumbles at him, "I'm tryin' mate."

Glinting in the lights are the brass fixtures of the near-perfectly preserved fireplace. An albino Galatea crab crawls over it. Nearby are the remains of a divan and a writing desk. The Dog crosses the ruins of the once elegant room toward another door. It squeezes through the doorframe, scraping rust and wood chunks loose on both sides. It moves out of a cloud of rust and keeps on going.

"I'm crossing the bedroom."

The remains of a pillared canopy bed. Broken chairs, a dresser. Through the collapsed wall of the bathroom, the porcelain commode and bathtub took almost new, gleaming in the dark.

Potter orders Weasley, "Okay, I want to see what's under that wardrobe door."

The ROV deploys its manipulator arms and starts moving debris aside. A lamp is lifted, its ceramic colors as bright as they were in 1912.

"Easy, mate. Take it slow."

The ROV grips a wardrobe door, lying at an angle in a corner, and pulls it with Snoop's gripper. It moves reluctantly in a cloud of silt. Under it is a dark object. The silt clears and Snoop's cameras show them what was under the door...

Weasley suddenly exclaims, "Ooh, baby, are you seein' what I'm seein'?"

By the expression on Harry's face, it is like he is seeing the Holy Grail.

vmvmvmvmvmvmvmvmvm

On the screen, in the glare of the lights, is the object of their quest: a small steel combination safe.

The Safe, dripping wet in the afternoon sun, was lowered onto the deck of a ship by a winch cable.

Around the research vessel, a crowd has gathered, including most of the crew of KELDYSH, the sub crews, and a hand-wringing money guy named Dean Thomas who represents the limited partners. There is also a documentary video crew, hired by Harry to cover his moment of glory.

Everyone crowds around the safe. In the background Mir Two is being lowered into its cradle on deck by a massive hydraulic arm. Mir One is already recovered with Ron Weasley following Harry Potter as he bounds over to the safe like a kid on Christmas morning.

Weasley boasts, "Who's the best? Say it."

With a slight smile on his face, Harry says in a put upon way, "You are, Ron." And then to the video crew, "You rolling?"

"Rolling."

Harry nods to his technicians, and they set about drilling the safe's hinges. During this operation, Harry builds up the suspense, working the lens to fill the time.

With an excited tinge to his voice, Harry starts his presentation.

"Well, here it is, the moment of truth. Here's where we find out if the time, the sweat, the money spent to charter this ship and these subs, to come out here to the middle of the North Atlantic... were worth it. If what we think is in that same... is in that safe... it will be."

Here Harry grins wolfishly in anticipation of his greatest find yet. The door is pried loose. It clangs onto the deck. Harry moves closer, peering into the safe's wet interior. A long moment then... his face says it all.

"Shit."

Ron finds his voice in the sudden silence that had overtaken the deck,

"You know, mate, this happened to Riddle and his career never recovered.

Harry growls in disappointment to the video cameraman "Get that outta my face."

vmvmvmvmvmvmvmvm

In a laboratory on the deck, technicians were carefully removing some papers from the safe and placing them in a tray of water to separate them safely. Nearby, other artifacts from the stateroom are being washed and preserved.

Dean Thomas was on the satellite phone with the investors and Harry was yelling at the video crew.

"You send out what I tell you when I tell you. I'm signing your paychecks, not 60 minutes. Now get set up for the uplink."

Thomas covers the phone and turns to Harry, "The partners want to know how it's going?"

Harry shouts at him almost tearing up his hair in frustration, "How it's going? It's going like a first date in prison, whatdya think?!

Harry grabs the phone from Thomas and goes his mannerisms go instantly smooth.

"Hi, Blaise? Look, it wasn't in the safe... no, look, don't worry about it, there're still plenty of places it could be... in the floor debris in the suite, in the mother's room, in the purser's safe on C deck..."

He trails off seeing something.

"Hang on a second."

A tech coaxes some letters in the water tray to one side with a tong... revealing a pencil drawing of a woman.

Harry looks closely at the drawing, which is in excellent shape, though its edges have partially disintegrated. The woman is beautiful, and beautifully rendered. In her late teens or early twenties, she is nude, though posed with a kind of casual modesty. She is on an Empire divan, in a pool of light that seems to radiate outward from her eyes. Scrawled in the lower right corner is the date: April 14 1912. And the initials JP.

The girl is not entirely nude. At her throat is a diamond necklace with one large stone hanging in the center.

Harry grabs a reference photo from the clutter on the lab table. It is a period black-and-white photo of a diamond necklace on a black velvet jeweler's display stand. He holds it next to the drawing. It is clearly the same piece... a complex setting with a massive central stone which is almost heart-shaped.

He exclaims an a voice soaked in astonishment, "I'll be God damned."

vmvmvmvmvmvmvmvmvm

A CNN news reporter presents a live satellite feed from the deck of the ship Keldysh.

"Treasure hunter Harry Potter is best known for finding Spanish gold in sunken galleons in the Caribbean. Now he is using deep submergence technology to work two and a half miles down at another famous wreck... the Titanic. He is with us live via satellite from a Russian research ship in the middle of the Atlantic... Hello? Harry?

Harry's voice could be heard, "Yes, hey, Lavender. You know, Titanic is not just A shipwreck, Titanic is THE shipwreck. It's the Mount Everest of shipwrecks."

The CNN report was playing on a TV set in the living room of a small rustic house. It is full of ceramics, figurines, folk art; the walls crammed with drawings and paintings... things collected over a lifetime.

In a glassed-in studio attached to the house, amid incredible clutter, an ancient woman was throwing a pot on a potter's wheel. The liquid red clay covers her hands... hands that are gnarled and age-spotted, but still surprisingly strong and supple. A woman in her mid-twenties assists her.

Harry's voice continues, "I've planned this expedition for three years, and we're out here recovering some of the most amazing things... things that will have enormous historical and educational value.

The CNN reporter cuts in with a question, "But it's no secret that education is not your main purpose. You're a treasure hunter. So what is the treasure you're hunting?"

Harry answers rather excitedly, "I'd rather show you than tell you, and we think we're very close to doing just that."

The old woman's name is Lily Granger. Her face is a wrinkled mass, her body shapeless and shrunken under a one-piece African-print dress. But her eyes are just as bright and alive as those of a young girl.

Lily gets up and walks into the living room, wiping pottery clay from her hands with a rag. A Pomeranian dog gets up and comes in with her.

The younger woman, Hermione Granger, rushes to help her.

Lily waves her away with a hand and says softly, "Turn that up please, dear."

The news report continues, "Your expedition is at the center of a storm of controversy over salvage rights and even ethics. Many are calling you a grave robber."

Harry's voice exclaims rather defensively, "Nobody called the recovery of the artifacts from King Tut's tomb grave robbing. I have museum-trained experts here, making sure this stuff is preserved and catalogued properly. Look at this drawing, which was found today..."

The video camera pans off to the drawing, in a tray of water. The image of the woman with the necklace fills the T.V screen.

"...a piece of paper that's been underwater for 84 years... and my team are able to preserve it intact. Should this have remained unseen at the bottom of the ocean for eternity, when we can see it and enjoy it now...?"

Lily is galvanized by this image. Her mouth hanging open in amazement.

"Well, I'll be God damned."

vmvmvmvmvmvmvmvmvm

At the KELDYSH, The Mir subs are being launched. Mir Two was already in the water, and Harry was getting ready to climb into Mir One when Dean Thomas runs up to him.

"There's a satellite call for you."

"Dean, we're launching. See these submersibles here, going in the water? Take a message."

When Harry turns back to climbing Dean stops him with a decisive, "No, trust me, you want to take this call."

Dean hands Harry the phone, pushing down the blinking line.

"This is Harry Potter. What can I do for you, Mrs... ?"

Dean fills in, "Lily Granger."

"... Mrs. Granger?"

Lily's voice amazes him when she tells him, "I was just wondering if you had found the "Heart of the Ocean" yet, Mr. Potter."

Dean puts in smugly, "I told you wanted to take this call."

Harry speaks into the phone in a reverent tone that wouldn't be amiss in a holy place, "Alright. You have my attention, Lily. Can you tell me who the woman in the picture is?"

He almost drops the phone in shock when Lily answers, "Oh, Yes, the woman in the picture is me."

vmvmvmvmvmvmvmvmvm

**Author's Note:** Alright , so I have deleted the complete fic and am posting the edited chapters one after the other. I have taken care that there are no mistakes in using the wrong character name at the wrong time and I have also checked and corrected all spelling errors. So, I hope all the reader's are satisfied with this edited version. So, Please Read & Review.


	2. Chapter 2

A commercial helicopter flies, thundering across the ocean. It roars past the miles of deep sea to reach its destination. There is no land at either horizon. The Keldysh is visible in the distance.

Through the window of the helicopter Lily's face is visible, sheooks out calmly. Harry and Ron watch Mir Two being swung over the side to start a dive.

Ron exclaims to Harry in disbelief, "She's a goddamned liar! A nutcase. Like that... what's her name? That Trelawney woman."

But Before Harry could give a reply, Seamus's voice cuts in, "They are inbound."

Harry nods and the three of them head forward to meet the approaching helicopter.

Ron continues to try and convince Harry about the woman's sanity.

"She says she's Lily Evans, right? Lily Evans died on the Titanic. At the age of 17. If she had lived, she'd be over a hundred now."

"A hundred and one next month."

"Okay, so she's a very old goddamned liar. I traced her as far back as the 20's... she was working as an actress in L.A. An actress. Her name was Lily Potter. Then she married a guy named Granger, moved to Cedar Rapids, had two kids. Now Granger's dead, and from what I've heard Cedar Rapids is dead."

The helicopter approached the ship, forcing Harry to yell over the rotors.

"Everybody who knows about the diamond is supposed to be dead... or on this ship. But _she_ knows about it. And I want to hear what she has to say. Got it?"

In a thundering sound blast, the helicopter's wheels bounce down on the helipad.

Harry, Seamus and Ron watch as the helicopter crew chief hands out about ten suitcases, and then Lily is lowered to the deck in a wheelchair by some Keldysh crewmen. Hermione, ducking unnecessarily under the rotor, follows her out, carrying Freddy the Pomeranian. The crew chief hands a puzzled Keldysh crewmember a goldfish bowl with several fish in it. Lily clearly does not travel light.

The bizarre image of this little old lady, looking impossibly fragile amongst all the high tech gear, grungy deck crew and gigantic equipment draws many eyes to her.

Ron says rather uneasily, "S'cuse me, I have to go check our supply of necessaries."

* * *

While Hermione unpacks Lily's things in the small utilitarian room, Lily is placing a number of framed photographs on the bureau, arranging them carefully next to the fishbowl. Harry and Ron stand in the doorway.

Harry asks coming in, "Is your stateroom alright?"

Lily replies happily, "Yes. Very nice. Have you met my granddaughter, Hermione? She takes care of me."

"Yes. We met just a few minutes ago, grandma. Remember, up on deck?"

"Oh, yes." Lily holds her head.

Harry glances at Ron... Ron rolls his eyes. Lily finishes arranging her photographs. A general glimpse of them is seen, the usual snapshots... children and grandchildren, her late husband.

Lily states rather suddenly, "There, that's nice. I have to have my pictures when I travel. And Snuffles of course."

She gestures to the Pomeranian.

"Isn't that right, sweetie."

Harry enquires, "Would you like anything?"

Lily looks at him and says with conviction, "I would like to see my drawing."

* * *

Lily looks at the drawing in its tray of water, confronting herself across a span of 84 years. Until they can figure out the best way to preserve it, they had kept it immersed. The drawing sways and ripples, almost as if alive.

Lily's ancient eyes, gaze at the drawing her mind seeing flashes of scenes. They go as fast as they come.

_Flash_

A man's hand, holding a charcoal crayon deftly creating a shoulder and the shape of her hair with two efficient lines.

_Flash_

The woman's face in the drawing, dances under the water.

_Flash_

A man's hazel eyes, just visible over the top of a sketching pad. They look up suddenly right at her. They are soft eyes, but fearlessly direct.

_Flash_

Lily smiles, remembering.

Harry holds the reference photo of the necklace in his hand.

"Louis the Sixteenth wore a fabulous stone, called the Blue Diamond of the Crown, which disappeared in 1792, about the time Louis lost everything from the neck up. The theory goes that the crown diamond was chopped too... recut into a heart-like shape... and it became Le Coeur de la Mer. The Heart of the Ocean. Today it would be worth more than the Hope Diamond."

Lily points at the drawing, "It was a dreadful, heavy thing. I only wore it this once."

Hermione asks her, "You actually believe this is you, grandma?"

"It is me, dear. Wasn't I a dish?" Lily says rather mischievously

Harry continues, "I tracked it down through insurance records... and old claim that was settled under terms of absolute secrecy. Do you know who the claimant was, Lily?"

Lily answers, "Someone named Snape, I should imagine."

"Ethan Snape, right. Pittsburgh steel tycoon. For a diamond necklace his son Severus Snape bought in France for his fiancée... you... a week before he sailed on Titanic. And the claim was filed right after the

sinking. So the diamond had to have gone down with the ship." Harry stops speaking and looks at Hermione.

"See the date?"

"April 14, 1912."

He continues, "If your grandma is who she says she is, she was wearing the diamond the day Titanic sank." He looks at Lily again, "And that makes you my new best friend. I will happily compensate you for anything you can tell us that will lead to its recovery."

Hearing that Lily says, "I don't want your money, Mr. Potter. I know how hard it is for people who care greatly for money to give some away."

Ron asks rather skeptically, "You don't want anything?"

Indicating the drawing, Lily says, "You may give me this, if anything I tell you is of value."

Crossing the room Harry says, "Deal. Over here are a few things we've recovered from your staterooms."

On a worktable fifty or so objects, from mundane to valuable are laid out.

Lily, shrunken in her chair, could barely see over the table top. With a trembling hand she lifts a tortoise shell hand mirror, inlaid with mother of pearl. She caresses it wonderingly.

"This was mine. How extraordinary! It looks the same as the last time I saw it."

She turns the mirror over and looks at her ancient face in the cracked glass. She speaks rather wryly, "The reflection has changed a bit."

She sees something else, a silver and moonstone art-nouveau brooch. "My mother's brooch. She wanted to go back for it. Caused quite a fuss."

Lily picks up an ornate art-nouveau hair comb. A jade butterfly takes flight on the ebony handle of the comb. She turns it slowly, remembering.

Lily experiences a rush of images and emotions that have lain dormant for eight decades as she handles the butterfly comb.

She hears Harry's voice dimly, "Are you ready to go back to Titanic?"

In a darkened room lined with TV monitors, images of the wreck fill the screens, fed from Mir One and Two, and the two ROVs, Snoop Dog and DUNCAN.

Ron is in his element projecting excitedly.

"Live from 12,000 feet."

Lily stares raptly at the screens. She is enthralled by one in particular, an image of the bow railing. It obviously means something to her. Harry studies her reactions carefully.

"The bow's struck in the bottom like an axe, from the impact. Here... I can run a simulation we worked up on this monitor over here."

Hermione turns the chair so Lily can see the screen of Ron's computer.

As Ron calls up the file, he keeps talking.

"We've put together the world's largest database on the Titanic. Okay, here..."

Suddenly Harry interrupts, "Lily might not want to see this, Ron."

"No, no. It's fine. I'm curious." Lily placates him.

Ron starts a computer animated graphic on the screen, which parallels his rapid-fire narration.

"She hits the berg on the starboard side and it sort of bumps along... punching holes like a Morse code... dit dit dit, down the side. Now she's flooding in the forward compartments... and the water spills over the tops of the bulk heads, going aft. As her bow is going down, her stern is coming up... slow at first... and then faster and faster until it's lifting all that weight, maybe 20 or 30 thousand tons... out of the water and the hull can't deal... so SKRTTT!!" he makes a sound in time with the animation, "... it splits! Right down to the keel, which acts like a big hinge . Now the bow swings down and the stern falls back level... but the weight of the bow pulls the stern up vertical, and then the bow section detaches, heading for the bottom. The stern bobs like a cork, floods and goes under about 2:20 a.m. Two hours and forty minutes after the collision."

The animation then follows the bow section as it sinks. Lily watches this clinical dissection of the disaster without emotion.

Ron continues, "The bow pulls out of its dive and planes away, almost a half a mile, before it hits the bottom going maybe 12 miles an hour. KABOOM!"

The bow impacts, digging deeply into the bottom, the animation now following the stern.

"The stern implodes as it sinks, from the pressure, and rips apart from the force of the current as it falls, landing like a big pile of junk."

He indicates the simulation, "Cool huh?"

Rather shakily Lily voices, "Thank you for that fine forensic analysis, Mr.Weasley. Of course the experience of it was somewhat less clinical."

Harry asks her, "Will you share it with us, Lily?"

Lily's eyes go back to the screens, showing the sad ruins far below them.

She views one of the subs tracking slowly over the boat deck. Lily recognizes one of the Welling davits, still in place. She hears ghostly waltz music. _The faint and echoing sound of an officer's voice, English __accented, calling "Women and children only"._

She sees in her mind screaming faces in a running crowd. _Pandemonium and terror. People crying, praying, kneeling on the deck. Just impressions... flashes in the dark._

Lily looks at another monitor. Snoop Dog moving down a rusted, debris-filled corridor. Lily watches the endless row of doorways sliding past, like dark mouths.

_An image of a child, three years old, standing ankle deep in water in the middle of an endless corridor. The child is lost alone, crying._

Lily is shaken by the flood of memories and emotions. Her eyes well up and she puts her head down, sobbing quietly.

Taking the wheelchair, Hermione says, "I'm taking her to rest."

"No!"

Lily's voice is surprisingly strong. The sweet little old lady is gone, replaced by a woman with eyes of steel. Harry signals everyone to stay quiet.

"Tell us, Lily."

Lily looks from screen to screen, the images of the ruined ship.

"It's been 84 years..."

Harry impatiently cuts in, "Just tell us what you can..."

Lily holds up her hand for silence.

"It's been 84 years... and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used. The sheets had never been slept in."

Harry switches on the mini recorder and sets it near her.

"Titanic was called the Ship of Dreams. And it was. It really was..."

-o-

In a glorious reveal, the gleaming white superstructure of Titanic rises mountainously beyond the rail, and above that the buff colored funnels stand against the sky like the pillars of a great temple. Crewmen move across the deck, dwarfed by the awesome scale of the steamer.

**Southampton, England, April 10, 1912**.

It is almost noon on sunny day. Crowds of hundred blacken the pier next to Titanic looking like ants on a jelly sandwich.

A gorgeous burgundy Renault Touring car swings in, hanging from a loading crane. It is slowly lowered toward Hatch #2.

On the pier horse drawn vehicles, motorcars and lorries move slowly through the dense throng. The atmosphere is one of excitement and giddiness. People embrace in tearful farewells, or wave and shout _bon __Voyage _to friends and relatives on the decks above.

A white Renault, leading a silver-gray Daimler-Benz, is pushed through the crowd leaving a wake in the press of people. Around the handsome cars people stream to board the ship, jostling with hustling seamen and stokers, porters, and barking White Star Line officials.

The Renault stops and the uniformed driver scurries to open the door for a young woman dressed in a stunning white and purple outfit, with an enormous feathered hat. She is 17 years old and beautiful, regal of bearing, with piercing eyes.

It is the girl in the drawing. **Lily**. She looks up at the ship and takes it in with cool appraisal.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about. It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauritania."

A personal valet opens the door on the other side of the car for Severus Snape, the 30 year old heir to the elder Snapes's fortune. "Sev" is darkly handsome, arrogant and rich beyond meaning.

He chides Lily with arrogance dripping from his voice. "You can be blasé about some things, Lily, but not about Titanic. It's over a hundred feet longer than Mauritania, and far more luxurious. It has Squash courts, a Parisian cafe... even Turkish baths."

Sev turns and presents his hand to Lily's sister, Petunia Evans, who descended from the touring car being him . Petunia is a 20ish society empress, from one of the most prominent Philadelphia families. She is a widow, and rules her household with iron will.

Sev says to Petunia, "your sister is much too hard to impress, Petunia." Indicating to a puddle he continues, "Mind your step."

Gazing at the leviathan, Petunia exclaims, "So this is the ship they say is unsinkable."

"It is unsinkable. God himself couldn't sink this ship."

Sev speaks with the pride of a host providing a special experience. The entire entourage of rich Americans is impeccably turned out, a Quintessential example of the Edwardian upper class, complete with servants. Sev's valet, Fenrir Greyback, is tall and impassive and dour as an undertaker. Behind him emerge two maids, personal servants to Petunia and Lily.

A porter scurries toward them, harried by last minute loading.

"Sir, you'll have to check your baggage through the main terminal, round that way."

Sev nonchalantly hands the man a fiver. The porter's eyes dilate. Five pounds was a monster tip in those days.

"I put my faith in you, good sir."

Curtly, indicating Greyback, "See my man."

"Yes, sir. My pleasure, sir."

Sev never tires of the effect of money on the unwashed masses.

Greyback growls to the porter, "These trunks here, and 12 more in the Daimler. We'll have all this lot up in the rooms."

The White Star porter looks stricken when he sees the enormous pile of steamer trunks and suitcases loading down the second car, including wooden crates and steel safe. He whistles frantically for some cargo-handlers nearby who come running.

Sev breezes on, leaving the minions to scramble. He quickly checks his pocket watch.

"We'd better hurry. This way, ladies."

He indicates the way toward the first class gangway. They move into the crowd. Alice Connor, Lily's maid, hustles behind them, laden with bags of her mistress's most recent purchases... things too delicate for the baggage handlers.

Sev leads, weaving between vehicles and handcarts, hurrying passengers (mostly second class and steerage) and well-wishers. Most of the first class passengers are avoiding the smelly press of the dockside crowd by using an elevated boarding bridge, twenty feet above.

They pass a line of steerage passengers in their coarse wool and tweeds, queued up inside movable barriers like cattle in a chute. A health officer examines their heads one by one, checking scalp and eyelashes for lice.

They pass a well-dressed young man cranking the handle of a wooden Biograph camera mounted on a tripod. Daniel Marvin (whose father founded the Biograph Film Studio) is filming his young bride in front of the Titanic. Mary Marvin stands stiffly and smiles, self conscious.

"Look up at the ship, darling, that's it. You're amazed! You can't believe how big it is! Like a mountain. That's great." Daniel gesticulates excitedly.

Mary Marvin, without an acting fiber in her body, does a bad Clara Bow pantomime of awe, hands raised.

Sev is jostled by two yelling steerage boys who shove past him. And he is bumped again a second later by the boys' father.

The man apologizes to Sev, "Sorry squire!"

The Cockney father pushes on, after his kids, shouting.

Sev mutters under his breath, "Steerage swine. Apparently missed his annual bath."

Petunia says in a very snobby voice, "Honestly, Sev, if you weren't forever booking everything at the last instant, we could have gone through the terminal instead of running along the dock like some foul immigrant family."

Sev replies to that with, "All part of my charm, Petunia. At any rate, it was my darling fiancée's beauty rituals which made us late."

"You told me to change.", Lily defies.

"I couldn't let you wear black on sailing day, sweetpea. It's bad luck."

"I felt like black."

Sev guides them out of the path of a horse-drawn wagon loaded down with two tons of Oxford Marmalade, in wooden cases, for Titanic's Victual ling Department.

"Here I've pulled every string I could to book us on the grandest ship in history, in her most luxurious suites... and you act as if you're going to your execution."

Lily looks up as the hull of Titanic looming over them...a great iron wall, Bible black and severe. Sev motions her forward, and she enters the gangway to the D Deck doors with a sense of overwhelming dread.

"It was the ship of dreams... to everyone else. To me it was a slave ship, taking me back to America in chains."

_Sev's hand closes possessively over Lily's arm. He escorts her up the gangway and the black hull of Titanic swallows them._

Old Lily continues, "Outwardly I was everything a well brought up girl should be. Inside, I was screaming."

A screaming blast coming from the mighty triple steam horns on Titanic's funnels, bellowing their departure warning takes us back to the Titanic.

A view of the Titanic is seen from several blocks away, towering above the terminal buildings like the skyline of a city. The steamer's whistle echoes across Southampton.

Looking through a window, and back further to show the smoky inside of a pub. It is crowded with dockworkers and ship's crew.

Just inside the window, a poker game is in progress. Four men, in working class clothes, play a very serious hand.

James Potter and Sirius Black, both about 20, exchange a glance as the other two players argue in Swedish. James is American, a lanky drifter with his hair a little too untidy and unruly for the standards of the times. He is also unshaven, and his clothes are rumpled from sleeping in them. He is an artist, and has adopted the bohemian style of art scene in Paris. He is also very self-possessed and sure-footed for 20, having lived on his own since 15.

The two Swedes continue their sullen argument, in Swedish.

James looks over his cards to the two of them arguing over the wager of the tickets to the Titanic. He waves to them jauntily,

"Hit me again, Sven."

James takes the card and slips it into his hand.

James's eyes betray nothing. On his other side, licking his lips nervously as he refuses a card, sits Sirius Black.

Stacked in the middle of the table are bills and coins from four counrties. This has been going on for a while. Sitting on top of the money are two 3RD class tickets for RMS TITANIC.

The Titanic's whistle blows again. It is the final warning. James whispers silently, "The moment of truth boys. Somebody's life's about to change."

Sirius puts his cards down. So do the Swedes. James holds his close.

"Let's see... Sirius's got niente. Olaf, you've got squat. Sven, uh oh... two pair... mmm."

He turns to his friend, "Sorry Sirius."

"What sorry? What have you got? You lost my money??"

James says again over Sirius's angry shouts, "Sorry, you're not gonna see your mama again for a long time..."

He slaps a full house down on the table and grinning he continues, "'Cause you're goin' to America!! Full house boys!"

The table explodes into shouting in several languages. James rakes in the money and the tickets.

James looks at the Swedes with not even a bit of apology in his voice,

"Sorry boys. Three of a kind and a pair. I'm high and you're dry and..."

He looks to Sirius, "... we're going to..."

They shout together, "AMERICA!!"

Olaf balls up one huge farmer's fist. They think he's going to clobber James, but he swings round and punches Sven, who flops backward onto the floor and sits there, looking depressed. Olaf forgets about James and Sirius, who are still dancing around, and goes into a rapid harangue of his stupid cousin.

James kisses the tickets, then jumps on Sirius's back and rides him around the pub. It's like they won the lottery.

James sings a stupid little song, "Goin' home... to the land o' the free and the home of the real hot-dogs! On the TITANIC!! We're ridin' in high style now! We're practically goddamned royalty."

Sirius chimes in and says to the pub at large,

"You see? Its my destiny!! Like I told you. I am going to America!! To be a millionaire!!"

He turns to pub keeper, "Capiche?? I am going to America!!"

"No, mate. Titanic goes to America. In five minutes.", the pub keeper corrects.

Looking over at the clock, James swears, "Shit!! Come on, Sirius!"

Grabbing their stuff, he says again, "Come on!!"

At the door to the pub, he stops and looks back and adds to all grinning.

"It's been grand."

James and Sirius, carrying everything they own in the world in the kit bags on their shoulders, sprint toward the pier. They tear through milling crowds next to the terminal. Shouts go up behind them as they jostle slow-moving gentlemen. They dodge piles of luggage, and weave through groups of people. They burst out onto the pier and James comes to a dead stop... staring at the cast wall of the ship's hull, towering seven stories above the wharf and over an eighth of a mile long.

The Titanic is humongous.

Sirius runs back and grabs James, and they sprint toward the third class gangway aft, at E deck. They reach the bottom of the ramp just as sixth officer Alastor Moody detaches it at the top. It starts to swing down from the gangway doors.

James shouts up to him, "Wait!! We're passengers!"

Flushed and panting, he waves the tickets.

Moody asks them suspiciously, "Have you been through the inspection queue?"

Lying cheerfully, James says, "Of course! Anyway, we don't have lice, we're Americans."

Glancing at Sirius, he says again, "Both of us."

Moody says rather testily, "Right, come aboard."

James and Sirius come aboard. Moody glances at the tickets, then passes James and Sirius through to Kingsley, another officer. Kingsley looks at the names on the tickets to enter them in the passenger list.

"Gunderson and Gunderson.

He hands the tickets back, eyeing Sirius's English looks suspiciously.

James grabbing Sirius's arm, "Come on, Sven."

James and Sirius whoop with victory as they run down the white-painted corridor... grinning from ear to ear.

"We are the luckiest sons of bitches in the world!"

A/N: Sorry for the long delay in updating, but I have been very busy. But I will try to update faster in the future.

So, please Review.


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